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Chapter Two
Bixbite sat in the window seat of her small apartment, her sketchbook nested in her lap. Clean Bandit’s most recent album could be heard playing from a small fuchsia speaker across the room, the melody faint but pleasing. Each stroke of the 2H pencil upon the heavy duty made a soft scritch-''like noise. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon in the air was thick, supposedly coming from a steaming mug sitting beside her. Bixbite fiddled with the collar of her turtleneck sweater, continuing to sketch out what presumably was a face. The details were in-depth, shaded and realistic, almost as if…the girl in the picture could step out and touch your arm. Bixbite parted her lips into a smile as she continued to draw, her teeth being revealed from her happiness. The elongated canines in her mouth shone in the dim lighting, and her red eyes sparkled, her black hair falling straight around her face. The clock across the room read 9:30 AM, suddenly starting to beep repeatedly. With a quick motion, Bixbite thrust the sketchpad down and leapt across the room, slamming off the alarm. The shocks of high-pitched noise reminded her that she had her fighting round in fifteen minutes. ''Fifteen minutes?! Bixbite quickly dusted off her outfit and slammed around in the drawers, frantically reaching for her coiled, baby pink whip — her favorite and only weapon. Curling her fingers around the bright fuchsia handle, her skirt swishing as she quickly put on leggings for the fight — capri leggings, nothing less, but still leggings. A breeze outside was practically nonexistent as the gangly vampire teenager started to jog out the door and through the street. Bixbite retained her joyful smile as the gravel made little to no sound under her light body. Rhythm Access was flashing neons already, and Mighty could be heard in the background. Phew, I’m not TOO late. '' The loud crunch of the pebble ground signaled someone behind Bixbite. The crunching was heavy and dark. ''Oh my gosh, am I being followed? '' A small figure lunged out to Bixbite’s back, which she promptly screamed at. Bixbite thrashed about, desperately attempting to dismantle the miniature…creature. “CARRY ME!” The small being bellowed, and Bixbite stopped and turned her head around. “Nyx, are you freaking serious? You gave me a heart attack.” Nyx didn’t seem to be too phased, latching herself again onto Bixbite’s backside in a piggyback position. “I don’t care. Carry me.” Bixbite sighed as she adjusted the whip at her waist and slid Nyx up on her shoulder. “Alright, but if you do that again, you’re done for.” Nyx shrugged once again, her bat wings flapping. She hastily shoved a lock of her black hair out of her face. “I thought it was funny.” “Alright, if you say so, kiddo.” The duo hiked through the streets, ignoring the stares that they promptly received. It was uncommon to see a calm fighter like Bixbite and the town’s tyrant child, Nyx, hanging out together. Although, were they really hanging out? Nyx was hanging, that’s for sure. “Alright, Nyx, I gotta go inside for the tournament,” Bixbite said as she pried the eleven-year-old off her shoulderblades. “I’ll see you later?” Nyx shrugged. “Not like I care that much, but sure. I’m fighting later too. Against Necromancer.” Bixbite ruffled her hair before stepping up to Sarae, who promptly handed her a fuchsia wristband. “Good luck, kiddo.” Sarae looked at Bixbite with her eyebrows knitted together, rolling up the sleeves on her t-shirt to form a makeshift tank top. “Since you were late, they rescheduled Ishmael and Summer’s match before you and Toffee.” Bixbite nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll explain to Toffee why I was late—” Bixbite then proceeds to shoot a cold glare at Nyx, who is playing innocent “—and I’m sure she’ll understand.” Sarae shrugged. “Have fun, kiddo.” Bixbite nodded with her ever-present grin. “I will. Have a good day!” “You too. Good luck, I’ll root for you!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summer stared moodily at his bō staff, playing with the multicolored switches lodged onto the sides of it. A pointed blade, a saw blade, and a dual blade shot out of each end with each ''click. A scowl was lodged upon his face, the expression full of discontent. I only came here for the money today. No friends, just the money. The money will get me through for a while. '' Of course, today was one of his moderate favorite types of Rhythm Access: Memes. Who doesn’t love memes? The thing is, though, about the Memes round, no one is told what the BPM is, or the song that they’ll be fighting to. It’s all a massive surprise. Summer ran his hands through his black hair, his olive skin slightly shiny with nervous sweat. The pupils in his light blue eyes were small, focused. His stereotypical windbreaker crinkled with each move he made, his cloak pinned behind him. Summer pressed the fourth button upon his bō staff, which immediately stashed the blades away. The light above the door was yellow, which signaled a minute till he entered the stadium for his round, another Rhythm Flow round. ''I sure as heck better win. In the other preparation room on the other half of the stadium sat a Black Maned Wolf Human-Hybrid, looking distantly at the wall. His brown hair curled around his hazel as he bit on the inside of his cheek. A hoodie cast on the bench he sat upon had a tag with his name inscribed upon it: Ishmael. Well, easier than referring to him as that than a Black Maned Wolf Human Hybrid. Wrapped around the hipline of Ishmael’s ripped jeans sat a leather belt, packed with a small pouch full of…throwing stars, presumably his weapon for battle. His expression was difficult to understand, with a half-mask of a wolf’s mouth obscuring the lower part of his face — a large part of making it easy to read emotions. Ishmael’s red, flannel shirt’s sleeves were rolled up the elbows, his hands scrolling through his phone — not bothering doing check ups on his weapons. “Pfft,” he chuckled, supposedly looking at a text post. “Eggs-thetic.” That is an awful pun. I love it. ''His thumb scrolled quickly through the sheets of words until a buzzer sounded. The light above both doors had turned green. Summer leaped for the exit immediately, barging into the stadium and onto the bulletproof dance screen, his hand itching to grasp his bō staff and battle. Ishmael, however, kept his head down and his eyes directed at his phone. Upon hitting the large screen, however, he stashed his phone away in his pocket and shrugged as he strolled forward with a bit more defiance to his stride. “Weeelcome back to our favorite round of the day! The one, the only, Unpredictable Meme Rhythm Flow round!” the announcer cheered, the crowd erupting into applause. “In the color of dark blue for their icons, we have Summer, the Perception bō staff fighter! “In the color of dark orange for their icons, we have Ishmael, the…what title did he ask for? None? Okay then. We have Ishmael!!” “You all know the rules, so are we ready to get started?” Summer nodded eagerly, his knuckles turning red, then white from the firm grip upon his readied staff. Ishmael grabbed a couple of throwing stars from his pouch and nodded, his eyes crinkling with what I’m going to assume is competitive spirit. The microphone had a tad of feedback before the announcer started speaking once again. “Alllright! The song for your battle today is…” In the higher part of the audience, the wide-screen switched to a slot-machine like device. A row of numbers were all on them, and an animated child ran up the switch and yanked it down, their joints moving furiously. The numbers read out 324. “Heyyeyaaeyaaaeyaeyaa, otherwise known as Fabulous Secret Powers!” Summer’s expression went from ready to fight to completely shocked. “Wait, you mean the—” “Yep!” The announcer shouted. “The song from the He-Man meme! Have fun trying to hit those notes. The Mighty round for Electro Swing ranked at about a 12 on difficulty, but this is a 16, which, as everyone knows, is the hardest to keep up in with notes and fighting. This song has a BPM of 140, so prepare yourself!” Ishmael’s eyes widened and his wolf ears pressed down on his head in shock, his tail dropping. “Okay then. That’s one he-nous situation.” Summer stared at Ishmael with distaste. “…you legitimately just made a pun over He-Man. With the word ‘heinous’.” Ishmael shrugged. “Yep.” Summer shook his head and sighed. “Any minute now.” The announcer, as if on cue, counted down with an overly-energetic voice. “3, 2, 1…” “BEGIN!” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Halfway across town, Hyperbole, Confidence, and Luana sat together in a pizza restaurant, watching the battle start on TV with it’s ridiculously impossible camera angles. Hype seemed louder than normal, her usual facade being cold and uncaring to the outside world. “Guysss, they legitimately got Fabulous Secret Powers!” Luana looked up at the TV with a mouth full of pepperoni pizza. “Nice.” She then proceeded to take a large bite, wipe off her mouth with a napkin, and take a sip of lemonade. “Aren’t we all scheduled to fight tomorrow?” Confidence nodded eagerly. “Yep, it’s what the latest trend is, right? If it isn’t, I’m still fine doing it…oh, have you all seen those purses that some of those popular fighters carry?” Hype was too engrossed with the TV to respond to Confidence’s nervous question about the fashion craze. Ishmael had lodged throwing stars repeatedly into Summer, managing to hit all of his notes at the same time. The stats were shown in the upper corner: Ishmael at 75% health, Summer at 30%. With the tactical advantage of small, magically retrievable projectiles, it seemed to be working fairly well to make Summer miss notes. Every now and then, Summer would lunge with a choice blade extended on his bō staff, landing a successful blow every sixteen beats or so. Ishmael had a rate of successful blows for every eight seconds. Confidence looked at the TV and then flicked her attention back to her phone, slightly jittery. “O-oh! Apparently Toffee just got new pastel earbuds and set a new trend. They even have cat ears on them…where’s the nearest store that sells them?" Luana smiled as she sat back in her chair. “Confidence, deep breaths. You need to have some ‘confidence’ in yourself!” Confidence stared directly at Luana with a unamused expression. “That’s not the most original pun, I’ve heard it thousands of times before.” Luana sighed. “Ah, sorry. Hey, you haven’t touched your pizza yet.” Confidence was looking at her phone again, face illuminated with the unhealthy white glow. “Yeah, yeah…I’ll…I’ll get to it…” Hype whooped loudly as Summer landed a blow upon Ishmael. The latter’s health was now at 53%, but Summer had drastically decreased to 18%. “How much are they gonna win?!” Confidence looked at Hype immediately. “There’s a grand total of $500 on the line.” Luana exhaled deeply again. “How does this place even stay alive without the Officials finding out from above?” Confidence shrugged, watching the TV with Hype at this point. “Who knows. How does this magic even work?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ishmael’s eyes widened with exhilaration as he proceeded to flip onto the two notes next to him, leaning close to the floor to hit the next three and successfully launch a set of throwing stars out at Summer. Summer winced, fell back, but continued to hit the notes. The rate of the glowing circles appearing had reached an insane speed, yet the two still happened to hit them. Summer jabbed the point of the bladed bō staff directly at Ishmael, who narrowly dodged it (but got a rip in his shirt). Ishmael’s eyes looked angry. “Hey, dude, that was my favorite shirt!” Summer didn’t look phased. “If you weren’t such a bad fighter, maybe you would’ve dodged it." “I think you’re the bad fighter here. ''Tear-able, in fact?” “Would you stop it with the puns?” “Never.” Ishmael retracted the throwing stars from Summer’s right arm and reposition them in Summer’s gut, making the latter wince in pain. The song ends. “Ishmael wins by Higher Health!” exclaimed the announcer, causing the crowd to burst into cheers. “Ishmael, you can claim your prize from Sarae out front!” Inside the pizza parlor, Hype exploded with fury. “Nooo! How come Summer didn’t win?!” Luana shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be." Ishmael brought back the throwing stars and reached out for Summer, lying on the floor in pain. His wolf ears had flicked up with joy, his tail waving back and forth. “Good game.” Summer looked up warily before grabbing his hand, his speckled dragon wings stretched. “Good game,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck, only to shake Ishmael’s hand afterwards. The two departed from the stadium in opposite directions. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Toffee was behind the scenes, loading her crossbow with a happy expression. Her quiver slung over her shoulder and her hoodie sleeves rolled up, her boots tapped on the floor. She was already told what song she was fighting Bixbite against with: Lullaby by Sigala for the Pop category. This should be fun! Bixbite, on the other side, had her whip readied and was flexing it in her hand. Hey, maybe I can buy some new markers with this money. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe it’s a Death Dance round. '' '' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ '' ''From above the stadium, a girl with dusty rose hair slung a black surgical mask over her mouth, buckling her jacket shut. “Mods from Earth-22? Can you hear me? Yes, I’ve located the stadium. Do you wish for me to investigate?” “Affirmative. Cover every inch. We need to know what’s happening.” Category:Chapters